Chronicles of A Republic Trooper
by the-last-commando
Summary: Follows SWTOR Trooper storyline, starting on Ord Mantell. Rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

Sergeant Nyra fiddled with her blaster rifle. She had just arrived on Ord Mantell was on her way to Fort Garnik to help restore peace between the Separatists and the Republic. And kick ass while doing so.

"Ah, there's not a feeling in this galaxy like riding a hundred-ton Walker straight through the middle of a combat zone, right, kid?" came a voice to her right.

Nyra jumped about a foot in the air and turned to see who had spoken. It was a heavily armored guy who looked to be in his 30s.

He stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet ya, Sergeant. The name's Bex Kolos, although most folks call me Gearbox. I'm the technician of Havoc Squad. And what might your name be?"

"Uh, my name's Nyra." She said timidly, staring at her military-issued boots. She wished she had something interesting to say.

"Nyra, eh? Good name. Short and to the point. I hate soldiers with long names, makes 'em harder to remember. If I had a credit for every time a soldier was killed or wounded because I couldn't remember his name to warn him in time, I'd be able to afford transportation off this rock." Gearbox said good-naturedly.

Nyra hid a smile. She decided she liked Gearbox.

A speaker blared to life just above their heads. "Approaching Drelliad Village, sir. Scope shows small ops fire and enemy movement in all quarters. Separatists are definitely moving on the objective."

Gearbox spoke again. "Seems like another beautiful day on Ord Mantell. You excited, kid? Nervous? You know you're the first new entry to Havoc Squad in some time. That's a hell of an accomplishment."

"I'll give it all I got, Gearbox. Always have, always will." She said truthfully.

"Sounds good, kid, but you better not be makin' empty promises. You don't know how many half-assed soldiers have been killed on the battlefield since they didn't put in all they had. That's how it works on backwater planets like Ord Mantell. You slack off, you die. No excuses. Oh, and another thing: you're gonna want to be careful how you throw around names around here. Most of the big guys who run the place throw a fit if they aren't addressed as 'sir'."

"I'm sorry, sir. I'll try harder," she said blushing furiously.

Gearbox laughed. "I never said that's true for me, too. When we're off the field, we can lose the formality. Havoc Squad, we're a tight union. You'll like it here." Then his expression turned darker, and he lowered his voice so that Nyra had to lean in to hear it. "I'll tell you why we're here. The Separatists nabbed a bomb. One of those orbital strike numbers, so it's pretty important. We have no idea where those scoundrels have hidden the thing. They have popular support and a hell of a lot of hideouts. Finding the bomb… eh, we'll just say it's not going to be an easy task. "

"Tell me more about the bomb." She replied, still embarrassed at her early slip-up.

"That bomb… It was designed for mass destruction, like the complete annihilation of a city. In the hands of the Separatists, it could blow this little island straight off the map. We'll get a full briefing once we reach Fort Garnik, so for now just sit back and enjoy th-"

A gigantic explosion interrupted Gearbox mid-sentence. Nyra, Gearbox, and the other passengers on the walker were thrown from their seats.

An alarm blared loudly, accompanied by a lucid red light and the sound of a soldier shouting "Code Red! Code Red! We've been hit by an AP missile from somewhere in the village! Everyone hold your-"

Another explosion cut off the sound of his yells. This time, the damage to the walker was evident. It definitely wasn't going to be in working order any time soon.

Gearbox knelt by the driver of the walker. "Driver! Driver! Blast it, no pulse. He's down," He got up and turned to Nyra, his face bathed in red light. "Those backwater Separatists aren't supposed to have armor piercing missiles. Any convoy that passes through here won't have a chance." He frowned.

"What should we do, Gearbox? We can't just let soldiers walk right into a deathtrap!" She stamped her foot, frustrated.

"Calm down, kid. Since I don't have the fighting skill you do, I'll stay behind and try to repair the walker. Fixing things is my specialty. Earned me a place in Havoc Squad, and the nickname Gearbox. Your objective is to disable the Separatist missile launchers. We clear?" Nyra nodded.

Gearbox continued. "The missile launchers will probably be grouped together, in a cache of some sort, somewhere in the village. It'll be heavily guarded with the Separatists' best fighters, so there's no room for excuses. Disable the missile launchers, and get your ass back here in without dying."

"Will do, Gearbox. Those Separatists won't even know what hit 'em." Nyra gave a forced laugh.

The dented door of the walker slid open. Sergeant Nyra stepped outside, cool air brushing past her face.

"One last thing, Sergeant," Gearbox said from behind her, putting a gloved hand on her shoulder. "Good luck."

Then he pushed her from behind, and the walker door slid open behind her.

"Time to go kick some Separatist ass." She said under her breath.

Hoisting her blaster rifle over her shoulder, she made her way to the entrance of Drelliad Village.


	2. Chapter 2

Dodging the fallen bodies of both Republic soldiers and Separatists, Sergeant Nyra jogged into Drelliad Village. Ash, rubble, and crimson blood stained the explosive-scorched street. A Separatist patrol prowled the streets. Her first target.

Springing behind a stack of supply crates, Nyra raised her blaster rifle. She let off a round of bullets, none of which hit the patrol. He turned around, alerted to her presence by the blaster fire. She ducked, but not quickly enough. He saw her, and slowly walked to the spot she was hiding.

Darn it! Her first enemy and she'd already been spotted. She blamed it on her blaster rifle. It was severely unbalanced and the finish on it occasionally jammed the barrel.

She waited for him to get closer.

When he was, she launched out of her hiding spot, and slammed into his chest with all the force she could muster, knocking the wind out of him. He landed on the scorched pavement with a sickening crunch. Her added weight had broken his spine. She fired one quick shot, directly into his heart, and his eyes went dull.

Then she realized what she had done.

For the first time in her life, she had killed someone.

She sat back on her heels in shock.

_You could've let him live_, her head told her.

But in her heart, she knew that she would have to ignore that feeling if she wanted to finish her mission.

Getting back up, Nyra continued along the path, dodging blaster fire as she went. Luckily, most of the Separatists in Drelliad Village weren't very good with a gun, and she seldom got hit, except for a few nicks in her jacket.

After a few minutes, she discovered the cache, heavily guarded by some of the Separatist's finest men, judging by their heavy armor and the quality of their blasters.

Sergeant Nyra was slightly excited. Maybe she was non-girly, but her heart leaped at the idea that she would get a **real **challenge.

Trying to conceal her grin, she shouted to the guards, "Over here!"

Her military jacket blending into the background, it took them a few minutes to locate the source of the shouts. When they finally saw her, they scoffed and paid her no attention.

At least, not yet.

Trying to aim her unbalanced rifle as best as she could, she fired a bullet through the chest of the closest guard. He looked down in shock, surprised by the plumes of crimson staining his crisp jacket. "What the-, "he said, and slumped to the ground, dead.

Nyra winced. She still hadn't gotten used to killing people, no matter how much they wanted to kill **her**.

The other guards had just realized what had happened, and had focused their blasters on the Sergeant.

In response, Nyra raised her rifle, but realized it had jammed again. Frustrated, she hurled it at the head of one of the guards. She knew he was a goner when it slammed into his temple with a loud crack, and blood sprayed up into the air. Geez. She hadn't realized how much damage that thing could cause.

Two down, one to go.

Sgt. Nyra leaped to retrieve her gun, which had skittered a few feet away.

Just as she had her hand around the grip, the last guard seemed to realize what she was doing, and sent a single shot not at her, but at her blaster.

When the smoke cleared, it was evident that her rifle was useless, damaged beyond repair.

The Separatist guard grinned, showing yellow teeth.

"I've got you now, little bird!" he said joyfully.

"Think again, you idiot," she hissed, whipping a knife out of her boot, and sinking it deep into his foot.

Howling in pain, the guard kicked at her head, sending her sprawling.

Stars swam in Nyra's vision, but she shook them off and rolled behind the rusty wreckage of a speeder.

_Think, Nyra, think._

The guard was limping closer, blood staining his boots.

Desperately, she grabbed a jagged piece of Bronzium, wincing as it cut into her hand.

She waited for the precise moment, and catapulted herself at the guard. He fell backwards, but his armor padded his fall. He struggled underneath her, but she sunk the piece of metal diagonally into his heart. Blood pooled around the wound.

"But…," he sputtered, spitting up blood, "You're just a… a girl! How could… a girl… hurt me? "

Nyra shrugged. "I fight hard. That's all there is to it."

The man laughed croakily. "You… you still won't win…," then his chest rose and fell one last time, and he was dead.

Nyra pulled the blaster from his hand, and tried to wipe the blood and slime off of it with her jacket. Her hand throbbed where she had cut it on the debris. She took a few shots at the cache, and the resulting smoke made her eyes water. Once the cache was completely obliterated, Sergeant Nyra flung down the borrowed blaster, pulled out her personal holocom, and called Gearbox.

"The cache is no more than a pile of ashes, Gearbox." She said to the miniature blue figure.

"Nice work, kid. Truthfully, though, I didn't have the same luck with the walker. It isn't going to be moving anytime soon, that I can say for sure." He replied, sighing.

"It's fine, Gearbox," she said. "Don't beat yourself up. If you can't fix it, it probably isn't even possible to repair."

"Thanks, kid. But I keep on thinking about the driver. Poor guy probably didn't even know what hit him. Anyway, I'm gonna stay here a while longer, get all the goodies off this thing before someone else does. In the meantime, you should head to Fort Garnik, report to Commander Tavus at the Republic Command Center. But the road there isn't gonna be safe. Those Seps can pop out at you at anytime, so keep your eyes peeled and your firearms loaded."

"I'll stay on my guard, but my rifle isn't exactly in working order." Nyra laughed.

"Your rifle, eh? Those cheap ones that jam frequently?"

Nyra nodded.

"I hate those things. Honestly, you're better off without one. Once you get to Fort Garnik, you can request something different, and they'll fix you up. Good luck, and don't get killed." Gearbox cut off the connection.

Sliding the holocom back into her pocket, Sergeant Nyra made her way back through Drelliad Village. Getting out was easier than getting in, since she had -reluctantly- killed nearly all the Separatists on her way to the cache.

After several minutes of walking, Sergeant Nyra arrived at Fort Garnik, and after a few more minutes, located the Command Center.

Once inside, she was immediately greeted by a short man dressed in simple military clothing, like her.

"Hey, Sergeant!" He exclaimed. "Sorry to interrupt, but you're the new member of Havoc Squad, aren't you? That's a huge honor, especially since you're a gi-," then he realized what he was saying and looked down at his boots. "I, I mean, it's a huge honor to meet you, sir. Oh, uh, wait, I haven't introduced myself. I'm Farn, Private Farn. Ord Mantell was my first post. I couldn't believe it when I learned I would be here at the same time as Havoc Squad! Anyway, sir, if you don't mind me asking, what's Havoc Squad doing on Ord Mantell?"

"Umm… I'm not sure I should talk about it, it's a bit private," Nyra said timidly.

"I'm so sorry, sir. It wasn't my place to ask. I'll get back to work now, sir. I won't take up anymore of your time. If you were looking for Commander Tavus, he's in there." Private Farn stammered, pointing to a small room to Nyra's left. Then he saluted, and rushed off.

Spotting Commander Tavus, she entered the dimly lit room. The commander was talking in quietly to the other members of Havoc Squad. Nyra couldn't hear what he was saying, but as she got closer, he stopped speaking abruptly.

"Sergeant, you're here. Welcome, welcome. I'm Havoc's Commanding officer, Harron Tavus. It's good to see a new face in the unit. Well, let me introduce you to the others," He waved a gestured to a Zabrak with pale skin. "This is Lieutenant Vanto Bazren, known as Fuse. Name an explosive, he knows it."

Fuse smiled shyly. "Oh, uh hello, Sergeant."

Tavus continued, "This is Lieutenant Ryler Doran, or Needles. He's a genius with anything medical- stims, adrenals, injections, you name it." He nodded at a thin man with cybernetics concealing most of his face and an eye patch over his right eye.

"It's nice to meet you, Sergeant," Needles said, nodding politely. Nyra shivered. Needles gave her the creeps.

"And this is my second in command, Ca-"The Commander began, but the Mirialan girl shut him up.

"I can introduce myself, thanks," she grinned. "I'm Wraith. As Tavus already told you, I'm his second in command, and the squad's infiltration and assassination specialist. It's nice to meet you, Sergeant. You seem like a good shot. Hopefully we'll get to work together in the future."

Commander Tavus coughed, "...And you met Gearbox already, so that's it," he turned to the other members of Havoc. "Anyway, people, this is Nyra, the new Sergeant I mentioned a while ago. She's a strong fighter, got top marks in Forward Assault, Search and Destroy, and Advance Recon. Good to have you here."

"It's a pleasure to meet all of you," Nyra nodded. She wanted to add, "Except Needles," but she refrained.

"Now let's get down to business. Several days ago – six, to be precise- a Republic transport crashed into Northern Avilatan. That's bad enough, but that specific transport happened to be carrying an orbital strike bomb, the ZR-57. If we don't get that bomb back soon, we could potentially lose this whole settlement. We sent in a recovery team, but the Separatists had already stolen the bomb and various cargos from the transport. They fled before they could be captured," Commander Tavus facepalmed.

"Wait… How did they know where the wreck was? Someone definitely tipped them off. Someone on **our **side," Nyra frowned.


End file.
